


Tyler vs the Haunted House

by Spoodlemonkey



Series: Inktober/Goretober [23]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, Haunted Houses, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 15:38:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoodlemonkey/pseuds/Spoodlemonkey
Summary: The haunted house is Marchy’s idea.





	Tyler vs the Haunted House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GreyMichaela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/gifts).



> Some fluff for October! I love Haunted Houses! Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.

The haunted house is Marchy’s idea- and comes as a surprise to exactly  _ no one _ . The guy lives for October, for Halloween and horror movies, and the fair that comes to town every year.

Tyler’s never been before, not that he doesn’t love October, just his idea of fall is  _ pumpkin spice everything _ . He’s got a growing collection, candles he tucks away waiting for that first crisp day, gum he managed to track down at a novelty shop, recipes he’s collected in a scrapbook over the years for cookies and muffins and  _ popcorn _ . The guys chirp him for it, try to find him the most outrageous pumpkin spice themed items they can- and  _ nothing  _ has beat Z, of all people, finding him pumpkin spiced  _ lube _ . The point is, Tyler’s not sure how he really feels about haunted houses, considering he can barely sit through the Shining without wanting to hide behind the couch. 

“It’ll be a blast,” Marchy reassures him, then ruins it with, “it’s supposed to be an eight out of ten on the terror scale.”

Bergy takes pity on him, flicking his boyfriends ear. Marchy doesn’t even manage to look contrite. 

“You can hold my hand if you want,”

“Hey,” Marchy protests. “That’s my hand to hold.”

“I have two,” 

Tyler tunes them out as their group shuffles forwards in line, that much closer to their doom. The long line is a testament to how good the haunted house must be- filled with rowdy teenagers and calmer adults. His gaze catches on the group of guys behind them in line, or more specifically the hottest guy he’s  _ ever seen _ . The guys built, broad shoulders stretching out the black material of his sweater, solid all the way down and thick thighs Tyler just wants to seat himself on. He’s got dark hair under his snapback and huge brown  _ bambi _ eyes that are- shit, that have just noticed his staring. 

He winks, figuring he might as well go for broke and the guys cheeks flush  _ beautifully _ . A grin sneaks across his face and he’s considering waiting on the other side for the most gorgeous guy he’s ever seen when Marchy tugs on his jacket. 

And then it’s their turn. 

It’s disorienting, is the first thing he notices. The bright lights set up around the fair are gone here, and he’s left in the dim lighting. He squints, tries to make out the shapes before him, grabs onto Marchy’s sweater and lets himself be led.

Noises start up, generic haunted house shit that gets to him even as he tells himself it’s just recordings. Screams, crows, the sound of rats. He thinks he feels something brush against his leg and he flinches. 

It’s like a maze- he keeps his tight grip on Marchy, feels Bergy behind him. Someone jumps out at them and Tyler nearly screeches even as Marchy bursts out laughing, applauding the guy for his makeup. 

A chainsaw starts up. Tyler’s heart is pounding in his chest even as he tells himself how fake all this shit is. There are so many twists and turns- it’s getting darker, he keeps stumbling into walls and things hanging from the ceiling that grab at him, cling to his hair and his clothes. 

He’s starting to think this place will never end. 

They step around a corner and it’s pitch black. Something brushes against Tyler’s cheek- he doesn’t want to think about what it is, cold, clammy- and he swats it away and loses his grip on Marchy in the process.

“Oh fuck,” he freezes. “Marchy?”

“Over here, dude,” Tyler tries to follow the voice but just comes up to a weird wall- it feels like its made of material, inflated maybe? There’s a thin gap and he pushes forwards, slips his arm in and realizes this is where they’re supposed to go. There are footsteps behind him. Bergy, he realizes as a hand lands on his shoulder. He grips the hand tight, links their fingers together and leads the way through the minuscule space. The fabric presses in on both sides, leaves him feeling claustrophobic. He clenches his eyes shut and keeps going, focuses on the hand in his own instead of the walls pressing in on either side. 

It’s a relief when he’s finally through, out into the dim lighting he’s becoming accustomed to now. He glances back at Bergy but can’t make out much. It looks like they’ve lost Marchy though. There’s no sign of him, the dick clearly couldn’t wait for them. 

Bergy keeps a tight grasp on his hand as Tyler leads the way through the maze of corridors. It’s getting brighter, enough that Tyler can make out the bones surrounding them- skulls, some full, some caved in, full skeletons and pieces and the  _ smell _ is enough to convince Tyler he has no interest in stopping here.

Unfortunately that's when Bergy stops abruptly and says in a  _ very _ un Bergy-like voice,

“Um?”

And Tyler realizes with dawning horror that  _ that is not Bergy. _

Apparently he’s lost Marchy  _ and _ Bergy.

It is, however, he discovers with some hysteria, the most gorgeous guy he’s ever seen. 

Bambi eyes stare at him like they can’t quite compute what they’re seeing.

“You’re not Demers.” 

“And you’re  _ definitely _ not Bergy.” Tyler’s slipped from ‘I’m in haunted house  _ hell _ ’ to ‘time to flirt’ and it’s calmed his racing heart enough that he can think. Chances are if hottie is calling the guy he  _ thought _ he was holding hands with by his last name, he’s not his boyfriend. Tyler summons up a flirtatious grin. “But I don’t mind holding  _ your _ hand if you don’t.”

The blush apparently wasn’t a one off thing and now Tyler gets to see it up close and personal. It’s darkest at his cheeks, lighter down his long neck and Tyler would love to find out how far down it goes. 

“I’m Tyler,” he offers. “I’d offer to shake your hand but you’re already holding mine.”

“Oh ! I’m Jamie,” he seems startled to realize they’re still holding hands but doesn’t make any move to pull away. A shy smile works its way across Jamie’s face and that’s it, Tyler’s done for. There’s no way he’s letting this guy go. “Looks like we both lost our friends.” 

“Yeah, dicks.” Tyler grins, tugs a little and they start walking again. “We should probably stick together, for safety and stuff.”

Jamie laughs and jeez, Tyler is gone for this guy already. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

“Knew you’d see it my way.”

And they’re both too busy grinning at each other that they don’t even notice the guy with the chainsaw until he’s  _ right behind them _ . 

Then they’re both too busy running.

 

::

 

“I didn’t  _ mean _ to hit him!” 

“Oh my god just keep running,” 

 


End file.
